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When I wake, I’m pleased to find that my quest forlifestill lingers . . . and that I’m not frozen solid. Though there’s frost around my window again this morning, I’m warm under all my new furs.
But by late morning, loneliness, along with the inactivity, is once again crushing down on me. At least now, I can pace the room in my new boots. I briefly consider making another climb, but discard the idea as taking a step too close to madness. There’s no way the Mother would grant me another victory and I don’t particularly want to meet with death today, not while there are still things I want to experience.
Finally, Yvette shows up with a tray of food, followed by her son, Rionnon, whose smile couldn’t be bigger, probably because he’s carrying his bow and quiver of arrows. It appears to be the perfect size for him. And me.
“You have clothes,” Yvette says cheerfully. “You’re a new woman.”
Grinning, I turn a circle, so relieved to have company. “Yes, I’m ready for the world now.” I hold my hand out to Rionnon for the bow. “Let’s take a look.” Checking it over, I marvel at its quality. “It’s exceptional.”
“Is that good?” he asks with excitement.
Laughing, I ruffle his hair. “It’s better than good. Do you have a bracer to protect your wrist and a finger guard?”
He digs into the leather pouch that’s tied at his waist and pulls out the items. Helping him tie the leather bracer around his right forearm, I ask him if he’s ready to begin and his enthusiasm warms my heart.
It quickly becomes apparent that the boy has never been shown a single thing about archery. My opinion of Noé falls a little further. What kind of uncle, the boy’s father figure from what I understand, dumps such a weapon into a child’s hands and doesn’t give him any instruction? But Noé’s failure turns out to be my gain.
After we’ve gone over all we can without actually loosing an arrow, I tell him the lesson will have to end here and his face falls.
“What about from the window?” he begs and I laugh.
“And shoot some poor sod in the ass by accident? The deve would have my head.”
I can almost hear the workings of his young mind. And as sure as thunder following lightening, he comes up with, “What if I can get a target to shoot at? And someone to make sure the people stay clear?”
I’m loath to crush his excitement, so I turn to Yvette for help. “Well, if you can accomplish what you claim, Rionnon, I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks, Ma,” he yells, racing from the room.
Yvette and I share a smile. “He’s a very quick study,” I tell her.
“I’m so very grateful to you, a’Deve.” She inclines her head in a show of respect and I snort.
“Don’t let the clothing fool you, Yvette. I’m still a prisoner here.”
“I’m still grateful. Noé is always busy and his grandmother and I know nothing of archery.”
I move over to the bed, where my tray has been carefully balanced, and take a seat. Discovering a spoon in my now congealed gruel absurdly adds to my good mood. “Well, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to be useful.” I point, offering her a seat at the other end of the bed.
“May I ask how you learned to shoot a bow?”
I tell her of my affair with Roland in between bites of my breakfast.
“I’ve never had a serious beau,” she says wistfully when I finish the tale. Before I can point out that Roland wasn’t really a beau, she adds, in that same contemplative tone, “I got pregnant when I was so young.”
Though it’s indelicate, I decide to take the opening she’s provided me with. “Will you tell me about Rionnon’s father?”
She’s suddenly cautious. “His father?”
“I don’t want to assume, but Rionnon’s eyes are quite unique.”
“Yes,” she admits. “They are.”
“He,” and I usehebecause I can’t bring myself to utter either of the twins’ names, “refused to claim his child?” I ask gently.
Her head gives a tiny shake. “I did not ask him to. I willnevertake anything from Cayson Cyrun for as long as I live.”
I nod, her vehemence putting another piece of the puzzle into place. “Were there really no consequences for him?”
